


Labels

by savant (teii)



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teii/pseuds/savant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's not sure what to call this...thing he has with Wade, but definitely does not like what Wade came up with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Labels

They've never really put a label on it.

It simply never came up. Labels meant permanency, a role, a _definition_ , and not the nebulous guy-that-I-see-like-every-two-weeks-for-a-meal-or-sex-or-fighting-bad-guys-whatever-I-don't-know-who-cares thing.

But Peter's ok with it, because Wade definitely is (not like he's ever asked, but he's basically sure everything's cool), and if there's no objections, then they could have more time having soda balloon fights and playing apartment strip polo.

But it all abruptly ends one night when he and Wade stop a purse-snatcher in her tracks.

"Yeah, my brofriend's gonna take you DOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWNTOOOOOOOOOOWN...to the precinct on 10th Street. That's the closest one, right?"

Something in Peter's brain snaps.

Brofriend?

_BROFRIEND?_

"What did you call me?" Peter spat as he webbed the thief onto a fire hydrant for the cops to find, as if Wade had called him a four-letter explicit rather than a goofy portmanteau.

Wade shrugs, as he casually torpedoes the handbag back into the old woman's chest, knocking her over. "Y'know. Brofriend. Like 'boyfriend', but much less gay. If boyfriend was whole milk, brofriend would be like, 1%."

"Whole milk only has 3.25% fat anyways."

"Fine! So it's almost two-thirds less gay! I don't think you appreciate the effort I'm putting into this!"

"It's still 110% stupid. And into what?"

"Into _this_." He points a finger back and forth between Peter and himself. "Us."

Peter swallows, but manages to drawl out, "So you made up a word to bring us closer together. That's helpful."

Wade groans as if the conversation was physically hurting him. "I'm just trying to ease you into the whole 'being attracted to dudes' thing. Not a problem, we'll take it slow. Baby steps. Snail racing. Paint drying slow. Whatever."

Good _god_.

"What made you think I have a problem with...with..."

Wade points frantically at him, and Peter can practically see the merc lighting up with the inexplicably victorious feeling of Being Right. "See? See?! You can't even say it out loud, you wimp." A quick glare. "Not to mention you still like flirting around."

Peter squints. "With who?"

"That chick we fought a month ago. You said she was hot." Wade bites, but by the end of the sentence came out more or less a pathetic whine.

It was Peter's turn to groan. "She had magma for hair. Her power was fire manipulation. She nearly gave me a third degree burn on my everything. And in case you knew NOTHING about me, I like making jokes." An idea dawns, and Peter tilts his head and crosses his arms just enough to look coy. "Are you jealous?"

Wade scoffs, turning his head away, "I thought we were going over your faults."

"Which also ties in with your hangups. Seriously though, we've been at this...thing for almost a year. What brought this on all of a sudden?"

Wade throws up his hands, "oh, I don't know, maybe because it's humiliating to be publicly friendzoned by a guy who you clearly aren't 'just friends' with?"

Oh.

"You heard that?" Peter asks eventually, tired, guilty and embarrassed all at once.

"Hard not to, seeing as you said it on national television."

Peter slaps a hand over his eyes, "right, right, look, Wade--"

"You're sorry for being a gigantic asswipe, you actually love me and will let me call you any nickname my little heart desires, including, but not limited to: wafflebutt, bananacop, Corkscrew McGee; and we can now commence with making out and holding up traffic." Wade opens his arms, fingers wiggling to invite Peter into his embrace.

But Peter grabs his arm, quietly dragging Wade deeper into the alley. He pulls out his phone, taps it a few times, before taking a deep breath and pulling his mask up to the bridge of his nose. "You too."

Wade complies, albeit confused. "What's going on, what are we--"

Peter silences him with a kiss. It's not one of their best ones, quick, heatless, and over in less than two seconds, but it's accompanied with a click! and a flash of light, and Wade turns to the side to see the back of Peter's LG G2 staring at him. Peter brings the phone back to his face and quietly taps his phone a few more times. One of Wade's pockets starts to vibrate.

He wrestles his phone out and stares down at his notification.

"Really?" Wade breathes, eyes flickering up and down from Peter's face and his phone. "Wait, you told me you weren't gonna get a twitter account."

"Well now I did. Go ahead. Retweet it."

"You know, I'm almost at 60K followe--"

"Yes, you told me thirty minutes ago, and thirty minutes before that as well," Peter cuts him off, with a small, amused eye-roll.

"No, seriously, this isn't a joke, everyone's going to demand answers."

Peter squeezes his hand. "Let them."

"No take-backs," Wade warns, squeezing back.

"No take-backs," Peter promises.

\--

It was around 3 AM when Wade finally tweets the picture, and by 8, had gone viral with 25K retweets and counting.

_@Deadpool: Ditto. Not like the pokemon. RT @MyNeighborSpispider: **His.** pic.twitter/MlaDS..._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
